


Five-Year-Plan

by moodwriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek under a mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five-Year-Plan

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Banner by me
> 
> Merry Christmas, dear readers. :) I hope you like this story. It was betaed by the lovely @aislinntlc. <33333

It’s the day before Christmas Eve, and Stiles and his dad have invited everyone over for an early Christmas dinner. It was Stiles’ idea because they’ve seen too much mayhem lately, and this should bring some balance to their crazy lives. His dad liked the idea of a house full of people because they’ve been having quiet Christmases ever since Stiles’ mom died. 

This is a change for all of them. 

They are trying to behave like a pack because that keeps them safer, but it’s hard. They are still too different, and there’s still too much bad blood between them. Stiles is good at pretending everything is fine, though. 

He’s been cooking most of the food, Dad helping him here and there, and everyone has already arrived. They are in the living room, setting the table, and Stiles can hear them arguing over who sits where and why. 

It’s ridiculous and fun and kind of endearing, and he can’t help smiling to himself as he checks the turkey in the oven. It’s almost ready. 

Someone enters the kitchen, and without turning around, Stiles says, “The glasses are on the top shelf there.” He points at one of the cupboard doors. 

He stands up and turns when that someone doesn’t say anything. Of course it’s Derek who’s standing way too close, his arms crossed over his chest. “What?” Stiles asks, nervous all of a sudden. 

Derek says something he can’t quite catch. 

“Um...” Stiles waves with his hand to encourage Derek to speak up. 

“Thank you.” Derek looks at everything but Stiles. 

“For what?” Now he’s completely confused. 

“This. Christmas. Giving me... us one.”

Stiles swallows. “No problem,” he says carefully, staring at Derek. “I like having you here.”

“It’s... nice.” Derek leans against the counter, unfolding his arms, relaxing a little, and it’s a much better look on him, makes him less off putting.

Lydia walks by them, looks up, and says, waving her hand, “Mistletoe.” She’s gone before they can say anything to her, but they both look up. 

Stiles did not put that there. “I didn’t do that,” he says, outraged. 

“I’m guessing Lydia.” And because there’s a hint of amusement in Derek’s voice Stiles turns to look at him. 

Stiles nods, his palms sweating and his heartbeat quickening, and it’s not a good thing with werewolves. “We can... Just ignore it. Stupid tradition anyway.” He’s about to turn to fiddle with the apple pie he’s supposed to put in the oven once the turkey is ready when Derek grabs his arm. 

“I can hear your heart,” Derek says quietly. 

That is evil. “Just nervous,” Stiles says, trying to pull free, but Derek doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to go through things like this. 

“We could, you know. Could be fun.” There’s something incredibly primal about Derek’s voice, and it goes straight to Stiles’ gut. His skin is full of goosebumps already. 

“Do you want to?” Stiles asks, turning to look at Derek finally. He’s being brave because it’s a moment of truth. It can be nothing, or it can be everything. Stiles thinks it’s nothing because he’s just never that lucky. 

“It’s just a kiss,” Derek says, moving closer, his fingers still curled around Stiles’ bicep. 

Stiles laughs, sweet and joyful because of course it’s just a kiss. Of course it is. He tilts his head to the side, staring at Derek defiantly. “Then kiss me. I don’t mind.”

Derek looks startled, then he puts two fingers under Stiles’ chin, and just holds him there. “Really?” It’s a freaking growl, and it makes Stiles’ toes curl. 

“Just do it. You know you want to.” The last part is pure bravado. He has no idea what to do or say at this point. 

Derek leans closer, sniffing Stiles’ cheek, and it makes Stiles bite back a sound. “Maybe I do.”

“Then you should.”

When it happens it’s shockingly easy. Stiles grabs the hem of Derek’s shirt, his fingers brushing naked skin, and when Derek’s tongue slides against his own it feels like parts of him are clicking to their rightful places. 

Derek feels warm and good against him, and when he puts a hand behind Stiles’ head to keep him there, to make it even more real, Stiles stops breathing altogether. 

After a while, Derek pulls back and Stiles follows, stumbling a little, and he would be embarrassed about it if Derek wasn’t panting so audibly. 

They stare at each other, still in full contact, and then Stiles just smiles. He wants to babble his way out of this, but he can’t. He has absolutely nothing to say. 

Derek puts his left hand on Stiles’ neck and with his other hand he traces Stiles’ lower lip slowly. Stiles feels ethereal under the touch, and he just can’t look away, can’t stop staring into Derek’s eyes. 

Stiles’ phone starts to beep, informing him that it’s time to take the turkey out of the oven, and he takes a step back, still looking at Derek. 

“Merry Christmas,” Derek says to him, smiling, and it’s such a rare blinding smile that Stiles has to take hold of the counter or he might fall. What a weird night.

He nods, trying to find his voice. Then when nothing else happens, he goes back to his previous task of being the cook for the night. 

At the dinner table, Stiles hears the laughter and sometimes awkward conversation through his own unsteady heartbeats. It’s a rush, a strange feeling of change, and for the first time in his life, he feels like he has a fighting chance. 

There’s one confusing moment when Derek touches Stiles’ leg under the table with his own, and it makes Stiles drop his fork on his plate. Still, even if it was accidental it gives Stiles a goofy smile and a happy buzz under his skin. Fortunately he’s a stubborn and patient person - two beautiful qualities that will make this less than a five-year-plan.


End file.
